


A Kefta Does Not A Grisha Make (Though Nina Says Otherwise)

by Purpleologist



Series: All Our Days [2]
Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: (hush jes), Flirting, Fluff, Friends Plotting Things Behind Your Back, I love these boys with all my heart, Jesper gets a kefta, M/M, Traveling, Wylan is s h o o k, i can't flirt so i don't know, i have no good tags for this, it's long overdue my guy, or at least it's supposed to be flirting, take it and leave me good thoughts, they're just dorks being gay and blushy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 15:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16747054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpleologist/pseuds/Purpleologist
Summary: While on a 'business' trip to Ravka, Jesper and Wylan stop in Os Alta to visit Nina, who jumps at the chance to get Jesper started in his proper Grisha training. That, of course, includes getting a kefta- purple with gray cuffs to match the Durasts that he apparently belongs with.Jesper isn't the biggest fan of it, but Wylan has other opinions.(Post Crooked Kingdom, happily and canonically domestic Wesper, Nina being a babe)





	A Kefta Does Not A Grisha Make (Though Nina Says Otherwise)

**Author's Note:**

> THREE DRABBLES IN THREE DAYS?  
> THREE DRABBLES IN THREE DAYS.  
> WESPER AND SoC and CK ARE MY LIFE NOW AND I KNOW EXACTLY WHO TO BLAME  
>  _ ~~lookin at you eliza and charlotte~~_

Jesper frowned at his reflection, tugging on the embroidered gray cuffs of his purple _kefta_ and turning slightly to see how it looked, “How the hell am I supposed to grab my guns with this thing on?”

“You sweep it back like this, obviously,” Nina told him, standing from her seat on his guest room bed and sweeping back the side of her own _kefta_ with a grin, “It makes you look cool.”

He mimicked her movement, hiding his amused grin behind a weak frown, “Not very time-efficient,” he grumbled.

“Saints, you sound just like Kaz,” she almost groaned, but she was smiling from ear to ear, clearly glad to have him visiting in Ravka.

The trip, he had assumed, was just going to be him and Wylan overseeing the shipment of some supply or another. He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but his plans were simply to sit back and enjoy getting out of Kerch for a bit and seeing the world with his loving boyfriend. Apparently Wylan’s plans were a bit more underhanded (curse him for encouraging the merchling to take up more nefarious hobbies back in their Barrel days), as the moment they’d arrived in Ravka, he’d announced that they’d by stopping in Os Alta and visiting Nina at the Little Palace. Jesper had no problem visiting her, of course. He adored Nina, as did most of the crew, and had been meaning to send her a letter to ask how things were doing in the Second Army, but he’d been avoiding actually coming and visiting for one particular reason.

“Oh, you’re just gonna _love_ Grisha training,” Nina swore, stepping forward and ensuring that his _kefta_ was buttoned all the way to the top. He’d left it unbuttoned for a reason, dammit. The collar felt tight on his neck, unfamiliar compared to the looser clothing he wore back home. It was softer, he had to admit. Silk was something that not even well-off merchers (as Wylan was now) came by easily and it was leagues smoother than the cotton he’d worn all his life. “I mean, I’m sure Fabrikator training is different than Corporalki training, probably with a lot less fighting, but just imagine getting to learn your powers properly!” The thought of training and mastering his _zowa_ abilities seemed to thrill everyone but him. These gifts were a part of him, sure, but hiding and pretending to be normal had become a comfort for him, as much a comfort as the spin of Makker’s Wheel had once been as well. As much as he hated the itch to gamble (that had thankfully subsided slightly with Wylan’s encouragement to put money in stocks, though he wasn’t exactly the best at that either), there was an undeniable comfort in the familiarity of known safety, no matter how detrimental it was to his health and wallet.

But Wylan had asked him to do this. He _trusted_ him to do this.

And how could anyone say no to a face like that?

“Can you bring me my pistols?” he asked her, flashing a hopeful grin, “I’m pretty sure Zoya had a guard or something take ‘em from me and they’re kinda like an extension of my arm.”

“I just said you weren’t gonna be fighting, but sure, I _am_ torturing you after all.” She said, flashing a joking smile.

“Ah, I was wondering if you knew how much pain I was in here.”

“Oh, hush, you wear lemon-and-lime colored clothing.” Nina smacked his shoulder.

“Yeah, but I make it work. Just ask Wylan.” Jesper couldn’t help the smug grin as the Heartrender scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Well he’s _biased_ ,” she reminded him, wagging a finger to shame him, “Boyfriends are not good judges of fashion sense, they always have to say you look nice.”

It was at that moment, of course, that Wylan entered the guest bedroom, nose in a sketchbook as he furiously scribbled with his charcoal.

“Wy! Babe, tell Nina that I _rocked_ that green-and-yellow ensemble on the day we met!” he requested, spinning around to face his boyfriend as Wylan lifted his head, breath catching when he saw Jesper.

“Um, y-yeah, you looked great.” He agreed, a loose smile on his face as his ocean-blue eyes took in the new clothes.

“Okay, I guess we’ll just ignore what Nina said,” she announced, grinning almost mischievously as she crossed the room, “I’ll run and grab your pistols, and Jes?”

“Yeah, Nina?”

“Don’t get it dirty. Silk’s a pain to wash.” She said, closing the door behind her as Wylan’s cheeks turned even pinker than before. The merchling scowled at her suggestive comment and he set his sketchbook down on a nearby end table, adamantly looking away from his boyfriend’s lean form decked out in the traditional Grisha robe.

“So whaddya think, Wy?” Jesper asked, stepping closer and ultimately keeping only a foot or so between the two of them, “You think purple is my color?”

At that, Wylan looked up, cheeks still pink as the dawn as he gave the _kefta_ another once over. When he finally met Jesper’s eyes, he smiled.

“I think it really brings out your eyes.” Jesper was honestly a little disappointed that he hadn’t reduced the younger boy into a blushing mess like a he used to be able to, but if he had to choose between cherry-red Wylan and a Wylan who had learned far too well from both he and Nina and was quickly becoming able to flirt him into next week, well… The choice should’ve seemed obvious.

“Oh really? And how about the fit? Too tight?” he couldn’t help the playful smirk on his lips as Wylan’s cheeks flared again, but he quickly recovered, stepping closer and running a hand lightly over Jesper’s clothed hip.

“Just tight enough,” he countered, somehow remaining coherent enough despite the fact that his face was nearly as red as his hair. With the confident smile and close quarters, Jesper gave in and kissed Wylan, reaching back to pull him closer.

Nina could rest easy.

The new _kefta_ came off long before it had a chance to get dirty.

**Author's Note:**

> WELL THAT TOOK A DIFFERENT DIRECTION THAN PLANNED  
> but i hope you still liked it  
> Leave some kudos, comment if ya got something to say, and love on my other Wesper fics if you haven't read em already.
> 
> [I'm Really Glad We Didn't Die](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16702348) and [Never Change, Never Leave Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16727316)


End file.
